


You can't find anything valuable on Pyree

by galaxyofstarks



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22034641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyofstarks/pseuds/galaxyofstarks
Summary: Planet of Pyree, 2014Brunnhilde is drowning her day's sorrows in the vile local alcohol (nothing new there) when a mysterious and enticing blonde woman comes sit beside her. What follows is an evening she will never forget... or will she?
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie & Carol Danvers, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Carol Danvers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	You can't find anything valuable on Pyree

_Pyree, 2014_

Brunnhilde was sitting at the counter of a bar, but what’s new? She knocked back a glass of burning alcohol. What was this planet’s speciality alcohol, again? Brunnhilde scoffed as she roughly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gestured for the bartender to give her another round. It didn’t matter _what_ they call the dumb drink they probably took ridiculous pride in, as long as it had the same calming, soothing, intoxicating feeling as the others, with which she was so familiar. The bartender, an annoyed-looking local man whose species Brunnhilde had forgotten even existed even if she’d seen the exact same man a few minutes prior, slid her a glass, half expecting her to let it slide past her unnoticed. She emitted a loud sigh as she gulped down her second glass. Man, that stuff was good. Not taste-wise, because her taste buds had already been burned raw by her first swallow and anyway, it was the effect on her mind that was so enticing. She’d forgotten what her body felt like without the effects, she could not say whether those were positive or negative. Probably positive.

She heard the stool beside her rake against the dusty – and probably mouldy – floor of the bar, signalling a patron had chosen to sit beside her, of all places. Of all the goddamn places he could have decided to sit…! If he wanted to buy her a drink and hope it might lead to some fun with her, ha! He’d get his ass beat. Oh, sure, she’d let him buy the drink. She’d even down the drink as soon as the bartender set it in front of her. But _then_ she’d beat his ass for thinking he could buy her… her affection. Her panties. Whatever. And also for all the lingering glances he was bound to give her. She’d even had enough to drink already tonight to maybe _skip_ the drink and go directly to beating his ass if he tried to touch her. Hell, then the drink could be her reward. Sweet, sweet reward.

You could say Brunnhilde had had a bad day. And maybe, _maybe_ , it was making her so jumpy and annoyed at the idea of an umpteenth man seeing a woman alone in a bar and already making up scenarios. And yes, it was only, like, dusk and she was swinging drink after drink. In winter. So what? She could indulge a little, after that horrible day. She had been on the hunt for fighters for the goddamn Grandmaster’s goddamn games. She sincerely hoped she’d be the one to bring him his next grand champion. Since that loser Gnarty had been killed last month, fighter after fighter had followed each other as the champion and never stayed long. It seemed fair, of course. But the Grandmaster despised it. It made it seem as if everyone had a chance. And it was boring. At least, according to him. Brunnhilde wanted so badly to capture the hero that would change it all. Maybe pick up some chicks on the way. No one was perfect or immune to _that_. Were they? The Grandmaster and his pessimistic bitch of an assistant both seemed above it. But they didn’t have the booze. Maybe the booze helped her want – and ability – to pick up girls all over the galaxy. No harm done, really. Cheered her up when she was in a bad mood like today. Showed her there was still _something_ she could do.

So really, was she that different from the men whose face she wanted to elbow into their brains? Not entirely, maybe. She never did offer to buy drinks to girls. She never did try the ridiculous smooth talk. It was all very clear cut and clean. Quick. Straightforward. And she could take a no pretty well, unless she was completely gone. Which had never happened, and would hopefully never happen. She had a good tolerance to alcohol. Obviously.

She took a sharp intake of breath, ready to seize the opportunity to evaluate the drunk who had sat down beside her. She was surprised to find a young blonde woman, a hard glance right ahead, already waving the bartender over for her own drink. Huh. That was new.

“I’ll have the same,” she mumbled with a vague movement of her hand.

The woman next to her glanced her way for the first time, giving her a curious look, then turning away, back to her drink. Then, almost as quickly, her eyes were back on Brunnhilde, as if she had forgotten to look the first time around. Maybe she had. Or maybe her eyes were already clouded over by the alcohol. Brunnhilde doubted it, somehow. But as the blonde woman saw Brunnhilde properly for the first time, so did Brunnhilde. She was taken aback by the raw strength and determination in the woman’s eyes, determination for what, she didn’t know. But it was there for sure. And maybe it was the dark blue eyeliner or maybe it was the pixie cut or maybe it was the smirk tugging at her lips, but she definitely had Brunnhilde’s attention.

 _Shit_.

Brunnhilde downed her newest drink without peeling her eyes from the woman before her and cocked her head to the side. She suddenly extended her hand in front of her, quickly enough to startle anyone except, apparently, the mysterious woman who she was decidedly liking more every second.

“Brunnhilde. Valkyrie. Whichever.”

She was not used to giving her real identity, let alone _both_ of them, but it had simply come out of her mouth before she could think about it. And, for whatever reason, there was something she desperately wanted to trust in the blonde woman.

“Carol. Carol Danvers,” the blonde replied, shaking Brunnhilde’s hand. It was as if she had just understood everything that had just gone on in her interlocutor’s mind. Immediately, instinctively, she had absolutely no idea why, Brunnhilde knew Carol was also delivering her proper name. It had a nice ring to it. Maybe any word coming out of Carol’s mouth would have had a nice ring. Who knew. More importantly, who cared.

“So,” said Carol as she sipped her drink to hide the smile growing on her face to replace the smirk, “what brings you here, Brunnhilde?”

What a loaded question. So many things, Carol. So. Many. Things.

“Uh… business, mostly.”

“You test bars for a living?” Carol asked, taking a sip of her drink, eyes sparkling.

Carol’s smirk was increasingly hard to hide. Or to ignore, for that matter.

“Nah, that’s my leisure activity when the day’s gone badly. Or well. Anytime, really.”

“Me too.”

“Really? I have a hard time believing a woman like yourself would spend her time scouting bars this disreputable,” Brunnhilde said with a sloppy motion towards the whole bar.

“And why is that?”

Valkyrie was the one trying not to smile now. And God knew _that_ didn’t happen often.

“Just a… hunch.”

Man, that sure was lame. Come on, Brunnhilde. Go on. You’re better than that.

“We don’t usually see young women this pretty around these kinds of bars.”

“Is that a warning? Or a veiled insult?”

_No, no, no, no, no, not a veiled insult! Or a warning! Just me losing my cool because I’m way too intimidated by this ridiculous… whatever I feel for you!_

“Neither. Just… an ascertainment.”

Carol actually did laugh, that time. It kind of made Brunnhilde want to stop drinking to stop forgetting anything. Kind of.

“Well, I’m certainly not as young as I seem.”

“Really?” said Brunnhilde as she raised an eyebrow and brought her glass to her lips before realizing it was empty and gesturing for the bartender to get them both a new one (her urge to stop drinking had really only lasted a second), “me neither.”

“I’m sure I’m older than you… not that it’s a competition. But everything is, in a way.”

 _Shit, she’s perfect_.

“Eh… pretty sure I beat you by a few hundred years at least,” replied Brunnhilde, scrunching her nose.

“A few… hundred years?”

Carol’s eyebrows shot upwards. She thanked the bartender and took a sip of her new drink.

“This stuff is disgusting, isn’t it?” the blonde remarked.

“Shh, don’t say that too loud! We might get kicked out of here.”

“THAT STUFF IS DISGUTING” chanted Carol as she raised her half-empty glass.

Brunnhilde really wanted to shut Carol up, mostly because she wanted to have a reason to touch her, but she also found Carol’s daring (drunk?) attitude impossibly attractive.

 _Shit, I never want to forget this moment. This whole night. This girl. Please kiss me and tell me you love me and never leave me_.

She took another swig of her drink. Damn, she really was drunk. Probably more than she thought.

Definitely more than she thought, since she didn’t remember being dragged out of the bar and yet she was out of the bar, Carol was out of the bar, neither of them had a drink and they were both giggling like psychopaths.

“What’s the next crazy thing we can do tonight?” Brunnhilde heard herself ask, apparently ready to take over the world with this girl.

“I could kiss you.”

“That would be _crazy_.”

They both giggled some more and suddenly sobered. Suddenly, the air was tense. Suddenly, the tension was electric. Suddenly, the electricity in the air grabbed them both. And suddenly, Carol grabbed the front of Brunnhilde’s rough garments and pulled her close.

Close.

 _Close_.

Until their lips met, and it was so much more tender than the manhandling (Womanhandling? Was that a word? Carol emitted such a femininity in her handling.) had let believe. Carol’s lips were soft under Brunnhilde’s. So soft that she had trouble believing this was the same woman she had seen drink the disgusting alcohol without flinching and gotten thrown out of a bar. And grab her collar.

Actually, it may not have been believable, but it sure as hell was good. So, so, so good. So good that when Carol pulled back, a soft sound of protest arose in Brunnhilde’s throat and she laced her fingers through Carol’s short hair. She could betray the whole damn world for the things that hair made her feel.

“Do that again,” the Valkyrie whispered.

“Please.”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to say that,” said Brunnhilde, taken aback.

“But I want to say it, too.”

“Okay.”

So Brunnhilde pulled Carol’s head forward and pressed her lips on the blonde’s. It was even better the second time.

“Hey! Get outta here! Wasn’t I clear enough the first time?”

The bouncer who had kicked them out previously had exited the building for a cigarette break. Or whatever revolting substance replaced the equally revolting cigarettes Carol was used to on this godforsaken planet.

“Wanna explore this city?” Carol whispered a little too loudly in her new friend’s ear.

“Or get outta here, anyway.”

Carol hummed appreciatively and they took off, Brunnhilde carefully trying to not make a big deal of grabbing Carol’s hand. But her heart was racing and her cheeks were reddening and she hoped Carol couldn’t see right through her. Or maybe she hoped she did. It was hard to tell with the combined adrenaline of getting away from the bar, exploring a new planet and simply being close to Carol.

“Where to?” asked Carol after a few blocks of walking aimlessly, once their heartbeats had slowed down and the giggling had stopped and going nowhere had lost all its fun.

“This city is a dump. There’s nowhere to go.”

_I don’t want the night to end, please have a better idea than me._

“There must be somewhere…”

Brunnhilde would have sensed Carol was trying to stretch the night as well, had she not been in such anguish to come up with something, _anything_.

_Can I just kiss you again and then we’ll see?_

Apparently Carol thought that was a good, idea, too, since she grabbed the sides of Brunnhilde’s face and kissed her again.

“What was that for?”

“I literally have nothing else to do that would please me even a little bit.”

“So this was only pleasing a little bit?”

“That’s not the point.”

“That’s not the question.”

“You’re too proud.”

“Is that a bad thing now?”

“Hm… no.”

And Carol kissed her again and Brunnhilde sincerely thought it really does not get better than that. Except it did because then she kissed Carol and their fifth kiss was even better than the first ones. Unsurprisingly.

“Ok but really, now, where to?” laughed Carol.

“I usually follow people around.”

“You don’t seem like the type of girl who lets others dictate her moves.”

“Eh… I have to. Given that I hunt down people for a living.”

“Like a bounty hunter, like in Star Wars?”

“Like in what?”

“Forget it.”

“I guess I am a bounty hunter, of sorts. Except they don’t know they have a bounty on their heads, and neither do I until I catch them.”

“I am so intrigued right now.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

_It is literally the last shred of my aura of mystery that no one has cracked in years. Decades, really._

Carol bit her lip and looked at the girl before her, as if restraining herself.

“What?” asked Brunnhilde with a small laugh in her throat.

“Is it extremely redundant if I just kiss you again in the same spot with my same lips?”

Brunnhilde kissed her instead and cradled Carol’s head in her hands, increasingly tired because of her day, because of her drinks, because of the effort it was to try to get someone to like you. And also increasingly desperate because what if she zoned out and never zoned back in, what if her sweet forgetting agent made her forget her sweet new friend, what if she woke up and she didn’t know if it was all a dream or not and what if it really was a dream?

“Carol… is this a dream?”

“I honestly have no idea if I’m hallucinating you ever since I took one swing of that drink.”

“Wouldn’t put it past that concoction.”

“You’re a smart drunk.”

“I’m always drunk, I gotta at least try to seem smart when I am.”

“It works. Mostly.”

“I have a ship.”

“A ship?”

“You know… to hunt people. To keep ‘em there.”

“Is this a threat?”

“More like an invitation.”

“Is it a nice place at all?”

“Probably not up to your standards.”

“What do _you_ know about my standards?”

Carol pulled away to look at her interlocutor properly, as if offended.

_No, no, no, no, no, don’t say something like that, it was a joke, please please please don’t be mad at me._

“No, I just meant –”

“I’d love to see your ship.”

“Come on,” and she grabbed Carol’s hand before leading her away.

And half an hour later, they were both in the cockpit of the Valkyrie’s ship, Carol unimpressed but pretending to be because she wanted to please Brunnhilde.

“So this is it, I guess. All my beautiful ship. Punches when I tell it to.”

_Shit, I’m such a hopeless lesbian, this ship is so basic, but… she’s cute. Her ship is cute. I want to kiss her again. I don’t want her to forget me when she hunts for… whatever it is she hunts for._

“What do you tell it in moments like now?”

“Like now?”

“When you take ladies up to your quarters like that.”

“I don’t take ladies up to my quarters like that.”

“Then what is this?”

“I don’t _usually_ take ladies up to my quarters like that.”

“I’m lucky.”

“You’re special.”

“In what way?”

“In the way that we’ve spent about 2 hours together by now and I still don’t want to punch you.”

“You want your ship to punch me?”

“I want to one to punch you.”

“Ever?”

“Unless you start acting up.”

Carol stood up from her position in the co-pilot’s seat and took Brunnhilde’s face against her neck. She was hardly ever taller than people, this felt rare and special. She also felt the most extreme surge of tenderness for the young woman in front of her, as if their banter was an indication of both their vulnerabilities. Carol couldn’t decide what was most surprising: her own softness for a person she had barely met or Brunnhilde, who was visibly someone very tough and hard usually, letting herself go so fully in her arms.

“I never want this night to end,” Carol breathed in Brunnhilde’s hair, quietly. She wasn’t even sure she had heard the words herself.

But Brunnhilde heard and squeezed imperceptibly tighter before whispering, just as quietly:

“It won’t, if we never forget it.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not.”

_I love you and I think you’d run away if I told you._

“Can I kiss you again?” whispered Carol.

“You’re the one holding my head far from your lips.”

Carol quickly brought up Brunnhilde’s face to her own and kissed her.

_How am I ever going to leave?_

Brunnhilde laced her arms around Carol’s waist.

 _We both know I have to, whether you realize it now or not_.

Carol kissed each of Brunnhilde’s closed eyelids, tenderly.

 _Here. Now you won’t cry_.

Brunnhilde had a small hiccup, almost a sob. A repressed sob. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so sensitive.

_Is it just the drinks finally washing over you making you this fragile?_

Brunnhilde looked up lazily to Carol’s eyes and gave a small, sad, smile.

_Or are you also feeling this night stretch out too thin?_

“Do you want to maybe… not stay standing in the middle of nothing?” Brunnhilde asked.

_Are you also conscious that you’ll never make an encounter like this ever again?_

“Sure.”

 _And do you want to pretend that you don’t know? Because me too_.

Brunnhilde led her back to the pilot and co-pilot seats.

 _I want to kiss you and stay with you forever_.

“Are you tired?” the Valkyrie questioned.

 _If we fall asleep, maybe we can pretend it was a dream and never regret it_.

“A little. A lot. Yeah, I am.”

 _If you wake up and I’m gone, please don’t be sad_.

They curled up together as Brunnhilde tried to hide her smile and kissed Carol’s temple.

 _Please don’t hate me_.

Carol kissed Brunnhilde’s forehead.

 _Please never change_.

Brunnhilde’s lip trembled.

 _Please always remember me in a good light_.

Carol smiled and stroked Brunnhilde’s hair.

 _Please never tell me you don’t love me as much as I love you_.

Brunnhilde closed her eyes and slowly fell asleep in Carol’s arms.

 _I am half sure it would kill me_.

Carol could feel the beautiful girl’s breath on her neck.

 _Please know that I will forever be changed by our paths crossing_.

After a few minutes, Carol slipped out of Brunnhilde’s sleeping figure.

 _I wish I could stay and I wish I could tell you I love you_.

The next morning, Brunnhilde wakes up, feeling like something is missing. But she can’t quite put her finger on it. She shrugs it off, and gets the fuck out of this useless planet. Yet, she has a nagging feeling that she forgot something on the ground. In Pyree, of all places.

Ha. As if anything valuable could be found on _Pyree_.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first Marvel fic so I hope it wasn't too bad... I am not used to wielding these charcters quite yet and hope I haven't written anything too out-of-character. I would love to hear some feedback!


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